Desert Lands
by Bourbon Rose
Summary: Once upon a time, an angel and a devil fell in love. Jogan AU. Based on CP Coulter's fic Dalton.


**Once upon a time, an angel and a devil fell in love.**

**Jogan AU.**

* * *

**Desert Lands**

* * *

Once upon a time, an angel and a devil fell in love.

Jogan AU.

The concrete floor is broken, the cracks reaching out to touch the walls of the abandoned buildings, spiraling like a spider's web around the slender figure sprawled out in the middle. Green eyes bright as lightning flash in the dark night, narrowing as the owner glares at the scene in front of him.

"What are you doing here?"

It's a hiss no human being would be able to hear, soft as the whispering breeze, but sharp as the knifes hanging around the blond's belt. In the miserable light of the one broken lantern, his eyes seem to turn red for a split second.

The creature on the floor doesn't answer, instead presses his lips in a thin line and slowly rolls onto his side. He moans and coughs, his hand slick with blood as he lays it on his chest. His white wings seem to give light in the darkness and the damage is clearly visible—the feathers in disarray and sticking out in the wrong directions, covered in blood and dirt.

"_What_ are you doing here?" Logan asks again. He takes a step forward, his nails scraping menacingly over the concrete walls surrounding the open place.

The damaged angel looks up with a snap of his head, his eyes narrowed to slits, filled with hurt and a ferocious fury. The minute his eyes meet Logan's, their stares lock for a few seconds and it's almost like magic, the way they can't seem to look away. Small, shocking tendrils of electricity dance their way up Logan's spine, and he's sure the other creature feels the same—if his violent shiver is anything to go by.

It's terrifying.

It's exciting.

But everything has an ending, even this strange, haunting magic that has the two mystic creatures captivated. It fades—its iron claws dissolving into soft, weak cords of silky thread that slip away easily.

"Nothing." His voice breaks, and his sepia eyes lose their glint like a candle loses its flame—and for some ludicrous reason, Logan doesn't like it.

"What do you mean?"

The angel huffs, lifting his chin as if their roles are reversed—as if he's not the one on the floor, broken and damaged, with his archenemy glaring down at him.

Logan notices the bloody cut on one of his cheeks and how the angel neglects to fold up his wings, letting them drag over the filthy floor instead.

He wishes it wouldn't distract him as much as it does now.

"I'm doing _nothing_ here," the angel spits, and he manages to sit up, looking drained and exhausted with the effort.

Logan's eyes glisten a strange hue of red, and he knows he should leave or fight or do something other than just stand there and stare. Instead he takes a few steps closer.

Beneath all the filth and the dirt and the blood, he sees the beauty of the angel.

"What's your name?" He tries to keep his tone stern, but he doesn't really know if he's succeeding.

The angel tilts his head, watching the devil in suspicion for a while. It's only after a long time when he finally answers, his demeanor defensive and guarded.

"What do you want from me?"

"I just want to know your name."

"What do you _want _from me?" the angel hisses, his luscious lips curling up and revealing gleaming teeth. "Go _away_."

"What is your _name_?" Logan growls, taking another step forward. His stance is dangerous, poised to strike without warning—and he guesses it's not entirely unsurprising that the angel recoils instantly, its wings fluttering uselessly.

A long silence fills the empty air, in which both creatures glare fiercely at each other, not allowing the magic of earlier to creep in again.

Finally, the angel speaks. "What do you want from me?" he whispers, his sepia eyes rivaling the depths of the ocean as he stares up at the dangerous blond.

Logan frowns, his fingers curling and uncurling, twitching up to his knifes but not drawing them out. Confusion whirls up in him like the fleeing smoke of a cigarette.

_To kill…_

"I don't _know_."

_Or not to kill…_

When he turns around to stalk off, he feels the stare of the wounded angel burn in his back for a long time.

* * *

"You have to go."

The angel whips around so fast, he nearly falls over. His sepia eyes are wide in surprise, but when he finds the source of the sound, he's quick to pull a blank mask over his expression.

"Oh, it's you."

Logan steps forward, out of the shadows of the alley he was hiding in. He glances up at the sky, smirking slightly at the full moon shining down on them, and then averts his glowing eyes to the creature in front of him.

"You're still here. You can't be still here."

"And who are you to decide that?" the angel snaps back. He's still hurt, cradling one of his wrists against his chest, one of his ankles clumsily wrapped in a piece of his clothing. "Who are you to_be_ here and _talk _to me?"

Logan narrows his eyes in amusement and he strolls closer, almost casually. "First of all, you kind of fell in the middle of my hunting grounds," he gestures around him. "This all is mine. And I happen to know that humans will be out here tomorrow, and they cannot see you wallow here in your self-pity." He laughs humorlessly and points to the sky. "I bet you know like no other what the bosses have to say about _that_ happening."

The angel glares at him, but when Logan doesn't do anything but stand there with his arms crossed and a skeptic expression painted on his face, he sighs.

"I can't."

Logan's expression lights up. "What can't you do, oh mighty angel?"

"I can't fucking _move_."

Logan's eyebrows rise in mild surprise. "You actually curse?"

"I didn't fell out of Heaven for no reason, you blithering idiot."

"You fell out of Heaven because you _swear_?"

The angel rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Sure, if you'd like to believe that, please go right ahead." His nails rake over the floor as he tries to move, but his body shivers and his face scrunches up in pain. "_Fuck_."

Logan's lips twitch up at the curse, but he takes another step forward, folding his hands behind his back as he watches.

"You're just going to stand there—?" the angel looks up venomously, his anger and frustration tangible in the air as he pulls himself up to his knees.

Logan smirks. "Maybe."

"If the humans see me, I'll tell them about you," the angel seethes. "I bet they're willing to believe an _angel_ when it tells them that a devil takes away their children and kills people in the midst of the night. And I bet they're willing to take advice when I tell them how to summon and _kill_ such a demon—"

It was Logan's turn to roll his eyes and he flicks away an invisible fleck of dust on his clothes before he takes the last steps forward. "Cheater."

Through his obvious pain, the angel glances up and smirks halfheartedly, holding up his hand to Logan expectantly. Logan takes his hand after only a little hesitation, and when they touch, both creatures close their eyes as a wave of torturous electricity courses through them.

"We're not supposed to touch," the angel chokes, horrendous pain flitting through his body. "We're not supposed to—"

"—talk," Logan interrupts him. "We're not even supposed to talk. So shut up and let me help you, because the humans will be here any moment if you keep up this complaining."

"I don't—" the angel yelps when Logan scoops him up effortlessly, his wings colliding with the demon's muscled body, their tips dragging painfully over the rough ground.

Logan shakes his head, shifting the light weight in his arms as he strides over to the alley. "You're freezing."

"You're burning," the angel whispers, not thinking straight when he spreads out his unwounded hand over Logan's chest.

When they reach the alley, Logan carefully guides the angel back to the ground, but he doesn't let go. Not when the angel is so obviously enjoying the heat that radiates from his body, not when this beautiful creature is still hurting and bleeding so badly, and certainly not when it closes its eyes and relaxes its broken body against Logan's chest.

Logan leans back against the wall, completely trusting the cover this deserted alley offers, and stares at the angel in his arms. The angel's black eyelashes throw long shadows over his pale cheeks, and his full lips are slightly parted to let short gasps of air pass.

He looks gorgeous in rest, Logan decides.

It's silent for a few minutes, but then the dark-haired creature mutters something that even the demon would've missed if the breeze would've blown louder.

"Julian," the angel sighs sleepily. A wind whispers over them and some of the feathers of his wings brush lightly over Logan's arms.

"What?" Logan looks down in confusion, wondering if he heard it right.

"You wanted to know my name, right?"

"Yes."

The angel smiles.

"That's my name."

Logan nods slowly and lets his head fall back against the wall, gazing up at the moon as he lets the name dance through his mind a thousand times over.

_Julian._

It's a good name for such a beautiful creature.

* * *

They start to talk a lot.

Logan brings food and watches Julian eat in silence, answering any questions the angel has to ask. Sometimes he asks some questions in return, but he barely gets the answers he wishes to hear.

He discovers that angels are guarded creatures.

"What did you do to fall from Heaven?" Logan asks one day.

Julian stills in the middle of eating, his long fingers stop tearing apart the bread, and he looks up with narrowed eyes.

"You don't want to know."

Logan snorts. "I wouldn't ask you if I wouldn't want to know."

"Fine," Julian sneers coldly. "You don't _get_ to know."

"I told you why I was send from Hell to Earth," Logan argues.

Julian shakes his head, delicately opening his fingers so the bread falls to the ground. "You having a fight with your family doesn't even compare to what I have done—to what I'm still doing. It's not the same."

Logan raises his eyes and picks up the bread, inspecting it quietly as he lets the angel ponder for a while. When he looks up after a few minutes, he notices something's different in Julian's expression. His sepia eyes are no longer shining, instead they're blank and staring into a far-away dream only he can see. His expression is one of utter grief.

Logan almost regrets his question, but curiosity wins out eventually.

"Was it bad?"

"Yes."

"How bad?"

"I disobeyed and they broke my wings."

Logan tilts his head, longing to hear the rest of the story. "But why?"

Julian narrows his eyes and he opens his mouth, but it takes a while before he actually answers.

"Did you know that every young angel gets assigned to something bad walking among the Earth? To watch him and intervene when he's about to do something wrong, or when he's done something bad already. It doesn't matter if it's a murderer, a rapist, a thief… or a demon."

Logan's eyes widen and he drops the piece of bread. Julian lifts his gaze to answer Logan's incredulous one, and he lets the silence tell the rest of the story.

"What…" Logan clears his throat, his stare gliding over the broken figure of the angel sitting in front of him. "What… went wrong…?"

"You know how they talk about how Heaven is the happiest place in the world, about how it's the most peaceful place in existence, and how everything's good in there? It's not."

"…it's not?"

Julian's lips curl up in the most bitter kind of smile Logan's ever seen, and his caramel eyes pierce right through the demon's as he lifts up his chin.

"Apparently you're not supposed to have feelings for the creature you're to watch."

* * *

_Standing alone with my heart in your hands_

_Longing to just breathe you in_

* * *

"Why are you doing this?"

Logan shrugs, is silent for a few seconds as he hands Julian another piece of bread.

"I don't know," he finally answers.

"Well, that's a shit-answer," Julian says as he eagerly stuffs the bread in his mouth. His body is still not healed, and even though they haven't talked about it, it worries Logan.

Aren't angels supposed to heal really fast?

Logan tries to remember when he last encountered a wounded angel, but he comes up empty. The only angels he's ever met were either fighting him, or fleeing, or dead.

"So?" Julian asks, reaching out to nudge Logan's arm. He lingers a little longer than necessary, and his sepia eyes light up the way they always do when he feels the warmth of Logan's body. He's still cold. A lot colder than Logan remembers angels to be. "Why are you helping me?"

Logan licks his lips and reaches out to hold Julian's hand, the one with the broken wrist, cradling it tenderly in his larger hands. Julian watches in confusion, trying to pull away even if Logan isn't letting go.

Logan looks up and they stare at each other for a long time, the eerie magic—familiar after all these days—catching them yet again.

"I don't know."

They both know it's a lie.

And they both know the truth.

* * *

Sometimes Julian has better days—days where the pain is less and he's able to move around a little bit more.

On those days, Logan loves to watch Julian move, and he quickly discovers angels are as graceful as the literature has always claimed them to be.

Today is one of those days and while the rain is falling from the clouds and eagerly soaking the two creatures sitting on the floor, Julian is laughing. The angel looks up with a melancholic smile, closing his eyes as he lets the rain caress his face. Logan tilts his head and stares in mild fascination.

"What are you doing?"

"I love the rain," Julian answers, unmoving as the rain pours down on him. Now, after all these days, Logan finally sees him the way Julian's supposed to look—a magnificent creature that lives completely in sync with the elements of nature, a glorious angel that's never supposed to be bound to the Earth like this.

It's a beautiful sight.

"I used to dance in the rain, you know?"

Logan raises an eyebrow, glancing up at the sky skeptically. "You did?"

Julian opens his eyes and they seem to shine a bit brighter. "All the time. I'd descend all the way from Heaven to Earth just to dance in the rain."

Logan smirks and stands up, holding out his hand towards the angel. Julian stares at him in confusion. "I can't dance now, Logan."

"Why not?"

"Because it _hurts_," the angels bristles irritably.

"It won't," Logan whispers, and he grabs Julian's hands and pulls him to his body. Julian hisses in pain, but Logan handles him so carefully, holds him so gently and carries just the right amount of weight for him—and after a second, Julian barely feels any pain at all.

Logan slowly starts to waltz through the rain, his arms holding Julian to his chest, the angel's feet resting on the demon's as they spin in graceful circles and move through the alley like it's the finest ballroom in the world.

Julian leans in the demon's embrace and buries his face in Logan's neck. The tips of his wings make whooshing sounds as they trail over the floor, leaving delicate paths in the dirt and painting out their dance on the ground.

* * *

_For all that is true, for all of the way_

_With all of my life_

_You hold my heart, you have my love_

_I will not let you go_

* * *

Logan finds out that Julian's been trying to sneak away the second week after the angel's fall. All that time they've been seeing each other every day, with Logan sneaking in food and Julian mostly sleeping and hiding away from the world.

He's furious.

"What are you _doing_?!"

Julian stares up with wide eyes, leaning heavily against the wall he'd been holding onto when he'd been trying to limp away. There's a sheen of sweat covering his face, his eyes are brimming with a revolting hurt, and his narrow chest is heaving as he struggles to breathe.

"I'm… _leaving_," he whispers. When he tries to take another step, he almost falters and it's all he can do to keep himself from falling.

"Are you an idiot?" Logan hisses, his eyes flaring up a frightening red. He gestures to Julian's wounds that still refuse to heal. "You can't even fucking _stand up_ straight! How are you supposed to leave? Where are you supposed to _go_?"

"Back to _Heaven_," Julian bites back, his voice breaking on the last word. "I'm going _home_."

"You _hate _it there!"

"It's still my _home_—"

"You're not getting back home anyway," Logan sneers, desperate to keep the angel with him even if he knows it's not fair. "Not with my scent all over you. And certainly not with how you're looking right now," he stares at him, almost in disdain. "They're not going to take back such a broken mess that's supposed to be an _angel_. God's not that friendly, Julian. He doesn't let people in Heaven if they can't even take care of themselves."

Julian's eyes are swimming in hurt, his chin trembling as he shakes his head. "No, you're wrong," he chokes. "You're _wrong_. I will get back, I _have_ to get back—"

"Why would you want to go back?" Logan pleads. "_Why_? They threw you out, they _hurt_ you like this—they are the reason you're in so much pain right now—"

"But that's the _reason_," Julian cries out, tears slipping from his eyes and trailing down his flushed cheeks. "That's the reason," he whispers brokenly.

Logan's eyes widen and he shakes his head slowly. "I don't… I don't understand."

"I'm dying, Logan," Julian breathes.

Time seems to stop. Logan wishes he could keep it that way.

"No…"

"I'm not healing—"

He doesn't know how, but Logan's suddenly at Julian's side, gathering this mess of an angel in his arms and cradling him against his chest.

"No, you're not dying."

"I'm supposed to heal, but I'm _not_. I'm going to _die_."

"You're _not_. Goddamnit, you're _not_."

Julian's trembling and his hands come up to clutch Logan's shirt desperately. His voice is immeasurably vulnerable as he whispers against Logan's throat.

"I don't want to die, Logan. I don't want to _die_."

Logan closes his eyes, because even though he's not supposed to have a heart, he feels the sharp sting as it cracks anyway. It hurts far worse than he has ever imagined.

"You're not going to die."

"I am."

"_No_."

"I don't want to die…"

Logan falls to his knees gently and takes Julian with him, and in the cold night that tightens its grasp around them, they find shelter with each other. The waning moon is the only one who sees them hold onto each other as they cry and plead and cry, and she's the only one who sees them fall asleep together—Logan curled around Julian in a desperate attempt to protect him from all the cruelty the world has to offer.

Even when that includes himself.

* * *

"Maybe they take you back if I leave."

Julian clutches onto him, his feverish eyes far too wide for his face. His tongue flicks out to moist his cracked lips and he shakes his head wildly—too wildly, Logan knows that the smallest movements cause massive headaches. "Don't go."

Logan stares sadly at his angel.

Julian's beautiful sepia eyes are dull and blank, their brightness having left around the same time his face turned a frightening shade of white. His clothes are hanging around his thin frame, his collarbones stick out, his waist so slender Logan swears he could circle it with his hands. His green gaze wanders to Julian's back, where his useless wings hang broken and ruined on the ground.

Logan takes a long breath, trying to control the tortured sobs that are building up in his throat. He doesn't have the right to cry. If anyone in the entire world doesn't have a right to cry, it's him.

"But they can _heal_ you."

Julian's hold is weak as he curls his fingers around Logan's arms. A shudder runs through his body, makes him close his eyes in pain as it shakes his body violently.

Logan chokes, reaching out in a reflex. Julian falls into his arms with a sigh of relief, pressing his thin body against the demon's chest to soak up the warmth of Hell's burning fires.

"You shouldn't do this," Logan whispers with tears in his eyes and voice. "You shouldn't do this. They won't take you back if you carry my scent."

"I don't want them to take me back," Julian mumbles, his eyes slowly closing. "Don't go, Logan."

"But they can _save_ you."

"…maybe I don't want to be saved."

Logan's embrace tightens. "Don't talk like that, you idiot," he growls.

"I want you to _stay_."

"I _can't_."

It's as if he's cutting out his heart, but he tenderly grabs Julian's light frame and pushes him away. "I have to _go_ and you should _pray_," he whispers fiercely. "You have to _pray_ every minute of every hour of every day, you have to _pray_ and God will take you back into Heaven. He _will_. He _has_ to." Julian doesn't react, merely stares at him with a hollow expression. Logan swallows against the lump in his throat. "He can't refuse the finest angel in the world entrance to Heaven, Julian. Even God isn't that cruel."

Julian looks up at him sadly. He doesn't protest. He doesn't agree, either.

"I have to go now."

Julian lowers his eyes and nods slowly, his shoulders sagging in resignation.

Traitorous tears escape and stream over Logan's cheeks as he backs away.

"I'm so sorry."

He tries not to look back when he turns around, but when he almost rounds the corner, Logan dares to steal a quick glance over his shoulder.

He immediately wishes he hadn't.

Julian is sitting on his knees, trying his best to sit up straight but too weak to keep it up. His hands are clenched together in his lap, his head is tilted to face the sky, his delirious eyes wide open and pouring tears as he mutters passionate prayers in a language that only his kind understands.

* * *

_But I will give my life to win your heart_

_And I will tear apart my soul_

_I'll give away all I know to bring you home_

* * *

One day passes.

Two days pass.

Three.

Four.

It's raining on the fifth day. The water is positively pouring from the dark clouds, pounding mercilessly on the tall figure that's trying to find his way through the curtain of rain.

Logan barely notices.

He barely hears anything other than his breath whooshing through his mouth, he barely feels anything but the horrifying sense of fear and dread.

Julian will have been picked up by now, right?

God will have answered to his prayers, right?

…right?

He forces himself to move faster and faster, until he's dashing through the rain with a speed no human and no animal can ever dream to compare to.

When he blinks, the sad, sepia eyes of Julian flash in front of his eyelids.

When he holds his eyes closed a fraction longer, he sees Julian like he's last seen him: kneeling as he faces the stars and the moon, his lips moving fast in a foreign prayer, tears of despair and pain streaming over his face.

_Julian._

He slows his pace as he nears the alley, and he holds his breath as he creeps in the shadows.

His mind goes blank and he nearly falls to his knees when he sees a dark form curled up as close to the wall as possible.

_Julian_.

Forcing his numb legs to move, it seems to take ages to reach the dying angel, and he's not even aware of the tears that flow down his face as he falls down next to Julian.

"Julian, Julian, Julian—"

Julian's wings are covering most of his body and his face and when Logan touches them tenderly, they tremble violently before they lift up a fraction. It's enough.

Sepia touches green and Julian's entire body quivers as a horrendous sound leaves his throat—it sounds like a sob and a plea and a cry of despair all in once, and Logan completely shatters when he hears it.

"No, no, no, _no_—"

Logan pulls out his jacket and covers Julian in it, knowing it's absolutely useless, but pulling the angel against his body anyway. Julian presses closer against him, as tight as his tired powers allow him to, trying to drown in the demon's heat. Logan grows cold as he notices how much effort it costs for Julian to breathe, and how every gasp of air causes a raspy sound to tear through his throat.

_Not good, not good, not good._

"They… they didn't… come," Julian croaks. It's difficult to talk for him, his voice hoarse and as damaged as the angel himself. "I prayed… I _prayed_… but they… didn't come…"

Logan blinks back tears, cursing the rain as it hits them as harsh as the realization that Julian's not going to survive this after all. The demon clutches the angel closer, and he's surprised when Julian utters a short laugh that's as dark as the sky above.

"Wouldn't… wouldn't it be… ironic if… if _you'd_ go to Heaven instead?" Julian pants. His fingers tighten around Logan's clothes.

"Why would I go to Heaven?" Logan asks roughly. He buries his face in Julian's soaked hair, his body shaking as he starts to sob. "Why in the _world_ would _I_ go to _Heaven_?"

"Because… because you tried to save me… A demon who tries to save an angel," Julian tries to smile, but is too tired to keep it up. "There's got…" he coughs—a horrible, agonizing sound, "There's _got _to be… some sort of reward for that… right?"

"I left you," Logan whispers. "I left you, this is all _my _fault…"

"No, you tried to _save_ me," Julian breathes. "None of this is your fault."

"But Jules…"

"…call me that again."

"How?"

"How you just called me."

"Jules?"

Julian smiles, makes a happy sound in the back of his throat, and why the hell would Logan deny him this one last thing.

"Jules."

"Hm."

"I love you, Jules."

The sound of the rain falling is the only thing they hear for a while, and Logan listens to it patiently, wanting to stretch out this moment, wanting to freeze time forever right now. For some reason, he remembers that day he danced with Julian in the rain and how happy they'd been—and the warmth that courses through him seems to radiate to Julian, because the angel makes a content little sound and leans further in Logan's chest.

Logan almost misses it—because it's so soft the rain almost drowns out the words—but he feels Julian's lips move against his collarbones and he feels his weak breath ghost over his skin.

"I love you, too."

The angel's wings tremble for the last time before they fall limply over Julian's back, covering him like a blanket. Julian's hands lose their hold and fall in his lap, and Julian's last breath whispers through the air and eerily soars over the loud downpour, and Logan swears he can hear everything in that last breath.

Relief.

Peace.

Love.

So much love.

Sobs tear from his throat, and Logan crushes Julian's body to his chest, burying his face in Julian's hair and returning the sentiment a thousand—no a _million_—times.

_I love you._

_I love you._

_I love you._


End file.
